YOU’D BETTER WATCH OUT!
Scared? You should be! We delve into the mysterious origins of one of the strangest characters of Christmas folklore
You try to run, but your little legs won’t quite go as fast as you need them to. Tears stain your cheeks as you desperately look for your parents. All around you the flames dance as sinister horned shapes run between them. You tried so, so hard to be good this year, honestly you did. You did all your homework, ate all your greens and even helped with the chores. None of that matters now, though. You had hoped for a gift from St Nicholas this Christmas but now you’re being hunted. Hunted by Krampus, for this is his night.
The Krampus Runs of the Alpine regions of Europe have become legendary and a popular alternative Christmas attraction for tourists with an interest in a more satanic side to Santa. Taking place several weeks before Christmas Day, parents take their children to a parade that sees kindly St Nick accompanied by an altogether more demonic creature. If you’ve been good, St Nicholas might reward you with a gift – but if you’ve been naughty Krampus will track you down. Once a subject of obscure folklore, Krampus has become a modern phenomenon having made the transition from Europe to the United States. He was the subject of the 2015 movie Krampus, ten direct-to-dvd films, and has appeared in episodes of TV shows such as Supernatural and Inside No.9. Yet this transition has sidelined him mostly as a cult figure,
a modern horror icon with comic books and action figures. Of Krampus’s folkloric origin, only vague hints and whispers remain. Yet in Europe, Krampus is alive and well, still haunting the nightmares of naughty children who fear Krampusnacht (Night of the Krampus) most of all.
But just who or what is Krampus? In contemporary American tellings he’s presented as something of an anti-santa but traditionally he’s one of a band of ‘helpers’ who work alongside the saint. In this instance he’s very much the yin to Santa’s yang. Whereas St
Nicholas brings gifts and goodies for the children who’ve spent the year obeying their parents, Krampus brings beatings… or possibly something even worse, with some early stories describing how he would drag naughty children straight to hell. Monte Beauchamp, who helped bring the character into the American public consciousness when he published a book of Krampus postcards in the early 1990s, explained in a 2012 interview with Collectors Weekly that: “He [Krampus] is St Nikolaus’ companion. In America, Santa Claus has elves, whereas in Europe, St Nikolaus – from which Santa was derived – has Krampus. St Nikolaus would bring treats and small gifts for the children who’d been good all year, and those that had behaved badly were visited by Krampus.”
Indeed, the figure is part of a long European tradition in which St Nicholas and his numerous ‘helpers’ appear at festivals and parades. The majority of these occur on 6 December, known as the Feast Day of St Nicholas, the fourthcentury bishop of Myra and the original ‘Santa Claus’. The patron saint of children, these events quickly became focussed on fun and frivolity, with men dressing up as St Nicholas and his many helpers, including Krampus. In Munich, this event is thought to have begun in the 16th century when schoolchildren, choir masters and teachers would dress up as the beast and cause well-meaning chaos. At the same time, there are stories of boys in a Jesuit school receiving a visitor dressed as St Nicholas who would distribute treats, possibly the origin of our modern day ‘store Santas’.
However, whereas we have a very clear genesis for the kindly St Nicholas, the origins of Krampus, somewhat befitting of a mythical figure, remain shrouded in mystery. As a result, folklorists remain unable to agree on any exact starting point for the creature. Numerous sources suggest that he may have pre-christian origins, noting the similarity between the appearance of Krampus and the Horned God of some pagan religions, later used as a deity in some forms of Wicca. However, this seems to have very little grounding in fact. As proposed by classicist, Spencer Alexander Mcdaniel, it’s more than likely that this idea originated with Maurice Bruce in his 1958 article entitled Krampus In Styria and tied to Margaret Murray’s now-outdated theories regarding pre-christian witchcraft. In
1921 Murray published The Witch Cult In Western Europe in which she hypothesised that witches belonged to a goddessworshipping fertility cult that was active throughout much of the Middle Ages and operated secretly in Christian Europe. This theory took off and became popular in the public consciousness. But writing in
“THE KRAMPUS RUNS OF THE ALPINE REGIONS OF EUROPE HAVE BECOME LEGENDARY AND A POPULAR ALTERNATIVE CHRISTMAS ATTRACTION FOR TOURISTS”
The Witchcraft Reader, Jacqueline Simpson stated: “Among scholars, her reputation is deservedly low; her theory that witches were members of a huge secret society preserving a prehistoric fertility cult through the centuries is now seen to be based on deeply flawed methods and illogical arguments.”
In his article, Bruce similarly makes jumps of logic, assuming that the birch rods carried by Krampus (shown in many of the illustrations) “may have a connection with the initiation rites of certain witch-covens”. More likely, the rods were featured in illustrations as an indication of the beatings that Krampus was said to deliver to the naughty children he took to his lair. However, the pagan concept of Ruten (a brandished bunch of birch sticks), has more recently been cited as a possibly symbolic origin.
While Krampus’ origin may be a mystery, he’s just one of a long line of other similar and sinister figures who haunt the night of St Nicholas, depending on where in the world you might be. Other examples of this include France’s Père Fouettard (translating as ‘The Whipping Father’). Fouettard’s origin story, which dates back to 1150, is particularly gruesome. Supposedly a butcher, Fouettard is said to have captured three young boys on their way to a religious boarding school. Robbing them of their money, he proceeded to cut their throats and, obviously being familiar with the old adage ‘waste not want not’, salted the meat ready for that night’s dinner. However, St Nicholas appeared at his door, which perhaps led to Fouettard being an innkeeper in some variations on the story. Seeking to appease his guest, Fouettard offered him a cut of his best meat. However, perhaps spying a stray piece of homework among his prime cut, St Nicholas became suspicious. Ruining dinner, he resurrected the boys returning them to their parents and as punishment Fouettard became ‘Father Whipper’.
Now he serves much the same function as Krampus, delivering punishment to naughty children.
Perhaps the most controversial of all these figures is the Netherlands’ Zwarte Piet, or ‘Black Pete’. Supposedly of Moorish descent, he would arrive by boat every year with Sinterklaas (Dutch Santa) and kidnap bad children, taking them back to Spain. Now the figure remains controversial due to festivals that involve adults wearing blackface, and numerous protests have been held to oppose them.
However, it’s Krampus who endures the most. This is due no doubt to the Krampuslauf (translating literally as the ‘Krampus Run’), the event mentioned earlier that’s held on the Feast of
St Nicholas which continues to this day. The traditions within the runs vary from county to county and from town to town, but the core remains the same. Adults dress up in Krampus costumes, usually consisting of full–body suits and elaborate masks, and cause chaos. In recent years the runs have attracted much attention due to the large amount of alcohol involved, which has caused some of the Krampuses to get a little too enthusiastic.
But for any attendee not wishing to get too physically involved, there’s still much to enjoy. The elaborate masks (referred to as ‘Larven’, coming from the Latin ‘larva’ and simultaneously meaning both ‘mask’ and ‘ghost’) attract a lot of attention and are prized by their owners. Compared to those worn today, the earliest known examples were incredibly simplistic, sometimes consisting of a face covering made of cloth or a simple carved mask. Now, the masks are intricately hand-carved by ‘Larvenschnitzers’ (mask carvers) who usually prefer traditional methods over modern tools.
While there’s a smattering of earlier examples, the craft as it exists today truly began in the 1930s when an unemployed sculptor, Sepp Lang, first turned his hand to carving a Krampus mask, and it’s to him that much of the contemporary style of mask is attributed. Lang reinterpreted the creature and took little inspiration from the designs featured on postcards or in books, instead crafting beautiful works with large and ornate horns and oversized gaping jaws. Sometimes Lang’s creations were not even designed to be worn but were crafted for an ever-growing tourist market, which kept him in a steady income. Now, Krampus mask-makers create more and more elaborate designs and costumes, and a lucrative collectors’ market has emerged for masks carved in the traditional style, with some professional carvers making around 100 masks a year.
Yet despite having an eager collectors’ market and thriving tourist industry built around the runs, Krampus doesn’t have a monopoly on them. Tyrol and Salzburg in Austria also have another tradition involving devils and demons that occurs around the winter solstice.
This too is believed to have pre-christian pagan origins, although the connection is slightly more believable. This festival centres around the goddess Frau Perchta, a half-goat half-woman god who represents the duality between good and evil. In the winter months she is said to hike across the mountains with a gang of evil spirits,
visiting towns as she goes. These ‘Perchten’ runs are designed to chase out evil spirits and banish them, and feature both ugly and beautiful Perchten representing the dual nature of the goddess. The beautiful Perchten are represented by men carrying large figures on their shoulders, which can be as tall as six feet. These figures bow at the spectators and dance, but the ugly Perchten are altogether more terrifying and, like Krampus, get up to all sorts of mischief. Some of these costumes were originally made from sheep’s pelts, where as today’s versions are intricately woven from corn leaves from northern Italy. These costumes are topped with a traditional hand–carved mask that can weigh around 30kg. The suit is then ordained with bells, chains and drums, and all together the costumes can weigh up to 100kg.
Krampus has also shown his versatility in adapting to new mediums, regularly being reinterpreted and revitalising interest in the creature. One such example occurred with the birth of mass-print media and the rise of the Christmas card across Europe. In the so-called ‘Golden Age of Postcards’, which began in the late 1890s, Krampus was a regular fixture on many designs. With the earliest known example appearing in 1893, the creature soon cemented his place in European Christmas mythology and was regularly depicted alongside St Nicholas or on his own. Some of the most striking examples utilised a process called chromolithography and were made by the famous Wiener Werkstätte, which was founded in 1903 by architect Josef Hoffmann, graphic designer and painter Koloman Moser, and the patron Fritz Waerndorfer. The Wiener Werkstätte’s striking designs created a stunning ‘Art Nouveau’ Krampus.
Many of the main postcard publishing houses were destroyed along with their work during the World Wars, and as such any surviving cards are now highly prized by collectors. One such enthusiast, Monte Beauchamp, brought them back into the public consciousness when he published Krampus: The Devil Of Christmas in 2010, which depicted some of the best examples of pre-wwi Krampus postcards.
Of course, as might be expected of a demonic figure, Krampus has many enemies. Chief among them is the Catholic Church. Numerous sources state that during the time of the Spanish Inquisition the Church banned dressing up as a devilish figure, bringing a halt to the Krampus Runs. The figure’s supposed pagan origins doubtless came into question as well, along with the chains that he is often pictured carrying, which were believed by some to indicate the bonds of the Devil.
Centuries later during World War II, Krampus found himself with a new enemy: the Nazis. For reasons that are somewhat hard to pinpoint, Krampus
“WE HAVE A CLEAR GENESIS FOR ST NICHOLAS, BUT THE ORIGINS OF KRAMPUS, SOMEWHAT BEFITTING OF A MYTHICAL FIGURE, REMAIN SHROUDED IN MYSTERY”
and his various traditions were considered to be the creation of the fascists’ enemies, most explicitly the Social Democrats.
The implication appears to be that he was designed to demoralise the German population, and the result was that Krampus in any form was banned. The runs were halted and depicting him on postcards or in costumes was strictly forbidden. For a party that was obsessed with Teutonic ritual and Germanic tradition, the Nazis were rather picky when it came to Christmas.
Today, Krampus’ lair isn’t in the depths of the earth – it’s in movies, books and comics. In 2015, Universal Pictures released Krampus, directed by Michael Dougherty. He may have seemed the perfect choice after directing the ultimate Halloween film Trick ’r Treat in 2007, which drew somewhat on that holiday’s folklore and customs, but unfortunately the same approach was not brought to Krampus. While still an entertaining horror comedy with shades of Gremlins, the film faltered when it came to the folkloric origins of Krampus. To begin with, the film’s creature looks little like the Krampus of legend, instead acting more like Santa Claus’ evil twin brother (squeezing down chimney’s, having elvish helpers, and so on).
Indeed, Al Ridenour, author of The Krampus And The Old, Dark Christmas: Roots And Rebirth Of The Folkloric Devil states that the film visualises Krampus as “an oversized hunchbacked being in a red fur-trimmed robe, white bearded, and with a ghoulish but human face resembling a rather exhausted Santa Claus”. Perhaps most distressingly the film paints
Krampus as a creature of Germanic origin, and while Ridenour is keen to remind us that he does have provenance here, this is confined to the south – Krampus’s real home is in Austria and Bavaria. And the less said about straight-to-dvd efforts such as Krampus: The Reckoning the better!
As Krampus becomes more and more popularised the hope of more scholarly research into his origins is increasingly likely. For a creature whose folkloric tradition casts a large shadow over Austria and Europe’s Yuletide celebrations, it seems bizarre that there is still so much that remains a mystery about him. Yet, of course, the obvious answer is maybe that’s just the way Krampus likes it – after all, the unknown is always much more terrifying. So as you’re putting away your copy of All About History or perhaps flicking through to the next article, just ask yourself – have you been nice or naughty this year?